They’d stopped signing, the way they always did when the conversation became about her, instead of including her. Like she was still a toddler and not a college student. Like all they had to do was spell out their words and she wouldn’t be able to u-n-d-e-r-s-t-a-n-d.
At her feet, Petrie wound in and out of her ankles. She set down her mug and scooped him up, sneaking him a sliver of fried potato. It took her a few seconds to realize her parents’ focus had resettled on her. Jace’s expression told her he’d just asked a question. She nuzzled her cheek to the fuzz top of Petrie’s head.
“What did you say?”
Across the table, her father was halfway through his third pancake. “I said, ‘Who’s Colton Price?’?”
Delaney schooled her features into careful detachment. “Where did you hear that name?”
Jace gestured to her phone, faceup on the table between them. “He’s called about sixteen times since you’ve been home.”
“Price,” Mia echoed, frowning. “Price.How do I know that name?”
“You don’t,” Delaney rushed to say. “He’s just a friend from school.”
“Ah.” Jace reached for another pancake. “And what’s a friend from school doing calling you sixteen times in the middle of the night?”
“Dad.”
“I’m just making conversation,” he said. “Can’t I make conversation?”
“That’s it,” Mia said suddenly, snapping her fingers. “That’s where I know the name. You remember, don’t you, Jace?Price—that’s the name of the corporate attorney whose sons went through the ice out on Walden Pond. Oh, it has to have been years ago now, but at the time it was all over the news.”
“Right. That’s right.” Jace palmed the salt-and-pepper scruff on his jaw. “Didn’t the eldest son drown?”
On the table, Delaney’s phone lit blue with another missed call. Colton, again. Something inside her went terribly cold. Setting Petrie on the floor, she rose from her chair.
“I have to take this,” she said. “Excuse me.”
***
Shut in her room, she sat on her bed and stared down at her phone. Every light she owned was on. The single incandescent bulb in her closet, the antique brass desktop lamp she’d bought for pennies at an estate sale, the square of winking Christmas lights that served as her headboard. Still, the shadows endured, sitting black and absolute against her floor.
The next time the phone rang, she picked up right away.
“I’ve been calling you.” Colton didn’t bother with a hello. His voice scraped through the receiver.
“You sound funny,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“Sensational.” He didn’t sound sensational. He sounded like he was in pain. “I haven’t heard from you since the airport. I wanted to make sure you made it back.”
“Kind of.” She glanced around at the clutter of her room, every available surface littered with mementos from her childhood. She’d only been gone two months, but already they looked like they belonged to someone else. “Colton?”
“Hmm?”
“I have something important to ask you. I need you to be honest.”
Something clattered on his end. It sounded like pills rattling in a bottle, though she didn’t entirely trust her hearing. “Shit,” he muttered. Then, “Ask away.”
She pulled her eyes shut against the conglomeration of light flooding her room. As if, shrouded in total dark, her late-night inquiry might feel a little bit less invasive.
“I asked you once if you had a brother. You said no. Was that a lie?”
He exhaled, long and slow, the air slipping out as if between gritted teeth. “You asked me if I had a little brother,” he said. “Liam is older.”
“Is?”
“Was,” Colton corrected.
